The 6 Sith Children of Satele Shan
by Surging Blade
Summary: They were born of the light. They were meant to be the revolution of the Jedi. But they were stolen and tainted by darkness. Now, as they rise through the ranks of the Sith, called names like 'trash' 'slave' and 'Jedi spawn', will the darkness swallow the children of Satele Shan, or will they grasp the faintest ray of light left in their world of darkness? A fall precedes a rise.
1. 6 Stolen

All was quiet in the Jedi Temple. The Jedi home on Tython was silent but for the usual sounds of late night training, guards footsteps and other masters who were going about their business. The Younglings, for the most part, were asleep. The Padawans were retired to their quarters.

A shadow stole through the Temple, silent as death. It went unnoticed by all. It darted from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, avoiding in its path. It crept along the corridors until it reach a door. The shadow split and there stood 4 black robed figures in the dark hallway. One snuck inside the room and watched the occupants for a while.

A woman was in the room with six children, all but one asleep. She rocked the baby back and forth gently until it felt asleep.

"You're a long night baby aren't you Jakomar?"

The robed figure slipped back out to the others. A quiet, almost silent voice told them, " _It is true. The Jedi has children._ "

" _How many?_ "

" _6\. One, two sets of twins and another._ "

One shot off the the archives. It returned a few minutes later, a datachip in hand.

" _The files on them all are here._ "

The tallest, the leader, seemed pleased.

" _Wait until the Jedi is asleep. Then we make our move._ "

When they were absolutely certain the woman was asleep, the figures crept into the room. The leader watched as its followers lifted the children out of their cribs gently and silently. One baby opened its eyes. Pale blue eyes were met with a battle mask. The baby shrieked and their cover was blown. The Jedi surged up out of her bed and summoned her lightsaber. The long hilt smacked into her hand and a blue blade blazed. She cried out the baby name as she attacked.

"Jakomar!"

A hiss punctuated the ignition of a bloody crimson blade, the leader blocking her strike with expertise. His glowing red eyes burned from inside his own mask. He shoved her back and one of his followers raised a palm to the wall and blasted it open, the three leaping out into the night with the 6 children. The leader shoved the woman down onto the floor and, before he left, intoned in an evil sneer.

"Did you really think you could hide them from us? You brought this upon yourself Jedi." Then he too disappeared into the night.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

The scream woke the rest of the masters and they came rushing into her room, lightsabers burning. One knelt next to her and asked,

"What happened?"

"They… took my children…" She cried into his shoulder.

"Who?!"

A pause.

"The Sith."

That night, Satele Shan cried herself to sleep in the Council Chambers. Her reason for living had been taken. Her hope, her little lights. That night, the Sith stole the 6 children of Satele Shan.


	2. 6 Initiates

The young children sat in circle in the centre of the room. The eldest, only 7, looked around at her roommates. They had always been together, ever since they could remember. Their names were on tags around their necks. The eldest's read 'Katcora'. The others, in order of age down, were 'Kyrenor' 'Kyrendor' 'Brymel' 'Bryaly' and 'Jakomar'. The adults around were nasty and cruel and always told them the same thing.

 _"_ _You only have the Jedi to blame. You only have Master Satele Shan to blame."_

And that was all they had ever known their whole lives. The door slid open suddenly and the usual greeting sounded.

"Get out trash."

The six rose and walked out of the door, into dull light. They were ushered down the corridor to the mess hall. The others in there turned to look, as they always did, looks of disgust on all their faces. One, somewhere in masses, called out.

"Hey look! It's the Jedi spawn!"

They got their daily portion of slop and sat at a vacant table. A red skinned boy came over, striding arrogantly. He slammed his palms down on the end of the table, making the younger ones jump.

"You gotta pay to eat here. Cough up."

As usual, Kyrendor shifted uncomfortably, not liking the arrogant boy. Katcora stood up in front of him, staring him in the face fearlessly. "In your dreams Ffon! I swear, if you keep doing this, I will 'accidentally' levitate a fork into your eye!"

"Hah!" Ffon laughed. "As if! You can't even lift a fork, Jedi spawn!"

A sharp, three pointed object poked Ffon in the neck. Katcora's fingers were curled in different positions on her right hand, clearly visible to the initiate. Anger blazed across her eyes, making them flash yellow for a moment.

"This fork is going down your throat in a minute Ffon! Painfully!" Her fingers twitched and the fork pressed into his red skin, threatening him further. The overseer of the hall noticed and yelled at them to save it for training.

After they were done eating, they went outside to a large courtyard. Practise sabers lines the walls of the adjacent room, long cylinders of light metal with a hilt and an activation button. They were each handed one and paired up. Kyrenor and Kyrendor went together as usual, Brymel and Bryaly were always together as well, since both pairs were twins, they were equally matched. Katcora was with Jakomar to ensure no one picked on him.

The courtyard became alive with the noises of countless practise blades being activated. The elder twins, now 6, went full on, smashing the yellow energy swords against each other's in various trys at breaking the other's guard. They both leaned into every clash, whilst their younger sisters, also twins, were more disciplined. Katcora couldn't actually fight against Jakomar since he could barely lift the practise sabers, it was so long for him. She was actually letting him try to get the swings right, simply blocking them and never attacking in any way. The overseer recited the Sith ways as they practised, marching back and forth on a terrace above.

"Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion, we gain strength. Through strength, power. Through power, our chains are broken. Anger is your weapon. Hate is your ally. Fear is your fuel. Deception is your second nature."

The same old speech. But the other initiates drank it up eagerly. ' _What a crock._ ' Brymel and Bryaly thought simultaneously. The training session lasted for two hours, and all of them were sweaty by the end, walking back to the freshers. They each were allocated 5 minutes to freshen up, the whole process taking another hour. After that, they had other lessons. After that, they were sent to their rooms and locked in. Such was the life of a slave initiate. For the remaining hours, until lights out, they talked.

"Why? Why are they so mean? Don't they feel anything?"

Jakomar sobbed to himself. The boy was only 4 and he was subject to this life. The male twins were adapting gradually, having been in the Sith custody since they were both 2. Kyrendor in particular was becoming more detached to the world. He was becoming colder to anyone but his siblings. Kyrenor was similar, no longer being as trusting as he had been at first. He, aged only 6, already was cautious about others than his siblings.

Brymel and Bryaly were kinder, caring deeply about each other and their siblings, they were willing to give genuine people a chance to earn their trust. This kindness was normally tempered and restrained by their eldest sibling's protective nature. She too was kind, but not overly so. She was rightly cautious of anyone who could bring her younger brothers and sisters harm in any way. This resulted in her being a role model for the two girls and a parental role, guiding the youngsters with her judgement.

Jakomar, even if he was only 4, was definitely a scaredy cat. His siblings never teased him about it but Kyrendor would occasionally tell him to grow up. Sometimes he would soften the words but others he was harsh and blunt. Nevertheless, they all still loved each other.

"Don't worry little guy." Kyrenor ruffled his hair and smiled at him, although it was forced. "We won't let them hurt you. That why we train, to become stronger so we can protect you."

"Thanks big brother!"

They spoke a little more whilst doing other things. Kyrendor tossed a ball around violently with the Force testing the limits of his control. It shot around, barely following his prompts. When he grew frustrated, it went out of control. His twin caught it half a foot from Bryaly's face.

"Katcora. Can we play a game?"

"Which one?" The eldest looked at the youngest with a smile.

"The one where we try to hold the ball in the air as long as we can."

She took the grey ball from the second oldest and gave it to Jakomar. The little boy did his best to focus. Within a few minutes, it was shakily creeping up from the floor. It hovered unsteadily in the air a few inches off the floor for a little while. Then it dropped to the floor. Kat lifted it telekinetically and it came level with with her eyes as she stood up. It stayed, vibrating slightly, hovering there. After a few minutes, the ball dropped. The others tried but they couldn't beat her time.

The next day, they had Force powers practise. The first one was levitation. The non-slave initiates were lifting the rocks easily. The slaves took their turn. Kyrenor stepped forward when it was his turn. He extended his hand, lining it up to the boulder. He breathed in, slowly lifting his hand. The rock shuddered but didn't move. The electro-whip cracked across his back and he fell to his knees.

"Come on slave! Entertain us!"

Embarrassment flourished and he tried again. It lifted an inch but that was all. This was impossible! No one his age would be able to do it! Again and again, the whip cracked down and he knew it was just for the pleasure. That made him angry.

' _Stop pressuring me._ "

Again. Again.

' _Stop pressuring me!_ "

Again

"Stop pressuring me!"

Again.

"You make me wanna SCREAM!"

Kyrenor thrust both hands forward and wrenched the rock up out of the ground, sending it spiralling up into the air. He swung his arms down. The rock smashed down into the ground, a mere few centimetres from Ffon's feet. The red skinned initiate would definitely stop taunting him now, unless he wanted the rock come down on his head. Good riddance.


End file.
